


Supper

by strtrk



Series: Step by Step [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode: s06e24 Life Line, F/F, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strtrk/pseuds/strtrk
Summary: Captain Janeway and her partner of four months, Seven of Nine, are ready to tell their Voyager family about their relationship. Set on Voyager during the events of 'Life Line.'
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway & Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Series: Step by Step [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771705
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	Supper

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this installment is worth the wait!

Seven of Nine reclined on Kathryn Janeway’s bed, tapping through a PADD as she awaited her partner’s return. Seven’s skin was pleasantly chilled, though whenever the ship rumbled from warp fluctuations, her heart beat hot and fast in anticipation. Heart. Seven had never heard her own heart before she had kissed Kathryn.  
Seven’s hair was tied back with a pink ribbon, her body bare save for Clothing Item Seven Alpha-4-3.  
  
Seven had a difficult relationship with Clothing Item Seven Alpha-4-3, beginning in Commander Chakotay’s quarters earlier today. After Seven became romantically linked with the Captain three months prior, she discovered a new purpose in the first officer- a confidant. Seven usually went to the Captain with questions about social behavior, an impractical choice given that the Captain was the subject of her concerns. The second option was the Doctor, an equally impractical choice given the hologram’s emotional attachment to her (Seven predicted an emotional outburst that she did not relish pacifying) and equally inaccessible given his current location in the Alpha Quadrant.  
  
The Commander was a logical choice- he was the only individual with knowledge of their relationship, besides Mezoti, as far as Seven knew. Seven had strong words with the young drone following the night the child had spied on Kathryn and herself, but Seven still viewed Mezoti as a liability. Both Borg drones and jabbering girls had a preponderance for keeping nothing to themselves, and Mezoti was both.  
Earlier that day, Seven rang the chime on Chakotay’s doorway. He answered, still in his uniform from his last shift, a glass of scotch sloshing in his hand.  
  
“Seven? Everything all right?”  
  
“Commander, I wish to inquire as to the nature of undergarments and their use in heightening sexual attraction.”  
  
Seven observed Chakotay’s face twist into a nervous smile as he stepped back to allow Seven access to his quarters, seemingly eager to get her out of the corridor. They were disorderly. Seven wanted to make sure he knew that.  
  
“Commander, your quarters are disorderly,” she informed him. “Do you require assistance?”  
  
“Seven?”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“You had a question?”  
  
“Commander, after reading several reports, I have come to the conclusion that appropriate undergarment selection can enhance one’s sexual allure.”  
  
“Seven, are you talking about lingerie?”  
  
“I believe I said that, Commander.”  
  
Chakotay sighed. Seven observed his brow furrow as he took a sip of his scotch.  
  
“Seven, I’m not sure this is entirely appropriate,” he said.  
  
“Over the past three months, I have come to consider you a valued friend. I do not believe it inappropriate for a friend to give me sexual advice. However, if you are uncomfortable, I will leave.”

///

  
Chakotay sighed. Over the past week, he had been drawn time and time again into Kathryn’s personal life. First, he helped Kathryn program a Greek bath-house holosuite program (“I think it’s time we introduce our resident Borg to some good old-fashioned human hedonism,” Kathryn had said, cocking an eyebrow). Then, Tom Paris had asked Chakotay’s girlfriend Hina questions about their relationship, prompting an uncomfortable conversation and the Chakotay discovery that Tom had healed hickies on the side of Kathryn’s neck (“I can’t believe Tom told you!” Kathryn had whispered in distress as they walked down the corridor, before Tal Celes provided a welcome distraction by running full force into the Captain while trying to report to Seven on time, causing the Captain to spill coffee down the front of her uniform). Now, Seven was here, in his quarters, asking him for suggestions on lingerie. From an overhead Mess Hall conversation, Chakotay suspected that Ensign Potumqa’s recent holodeck program included a situation involving Seven slightly similar to the one he was now in.  
  
“I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little uneasy about giving you this type of advice,” said Chakotay in a measured tone, watching as Seven’s jaw hardened. She turned to leave, brusk as always.  
“But,” said Chakotay, smiling rougeishly- “you’ve come to the most experienced officer aboard.”  
  
Seven tentatively returned his smile. Chakotay had noticed the former drone had been more emotive ever since her affair with the Captain had begun. He was sure that, three months ago, his quip would’ve earned him a blank gaze, or maybe an affronted scowl.  
  
“Here,” said Chakotay, beckoning Seven to the computer. “I can’t speak for the Captain’s personal preferences, but good lingerie should highlight the parts of your body your partner finds attractive. That means the color should complement your complexion, and the cut should highlight your…” Uh-oh. “Anatomical features.” Good enough.  
  
“My breasts,” said Seven absentmindedly, opening the computer’s clothing catalogue. She looked up at Chakotay. “Lace or silk?” she mused.  
  
“Are you asking me?” asked Chakotay.  
  
“Clearly, unless you have transformed into a Tzenkethi water-slug and neglected to inform me. Such a change would make you unfit for counsel.”  
  
Chakotay laughed quietly. Seven really had changed. She was borderline friendly. The Captain’s influence had worked wonders.  
  
“Do I amuse you, Commander?”  
  
Seven’s sharp voice sliced through Chakotay- there was something about the ex-Borg that demanded attention. She was impossible to ignore. Chakotay understood Kathryn’s attraction- no. He couldn’t think that. He made a mental note to talk to his spirit guide. But hell, he hoped his guide would be understanding! An eerily beautiful woman was staring at him, asking for opinions on lingerie.  
Chakotay was a Starfleet officer now, and loved Hina deeply, but the roguish Maquis leader in him relished the memories of a time when it was unusual for a him, as a resistance fighter, to be bound to any one lover. In the Maquis, monogamy was seen as a potential weakness the Cardassians were likely to exploit. After victories, which were few and far between against the fascist Cardassian military, the Maquis threw tremendous parties. The destruction of the Cardassian Waste Disposal Plant was one of those victories warranting celebration. The Plant wasn’t as glamorous a target as shipyards or mining facilities, but the thousand favlos of sludge scattered halfway to the Antares Belt proved a significant thorn in the Cardassians’ side. Two Maquis raiders landed on a snow-laden planet, exhausted, elated. B’elanna smuggled in blood-wine. Yvonne Yovanovitch brought some sort of Breen powder that turned their bonfire icy blue in hue, casting flickering, watery reflections on the faces of the victorious rebels. Li Paz led the crews of the Val Jean and the Resistenza in slurred Bajoran spiritual ballads around the bonfire. Tuvok seemed quite taken with T’Le, a young Vulcan Maquis serving on the Resistenza. Their elongated Vulcan fingers slowly slipped into one another’s in a way that seemed comfortable, natural. Baldwin, the old man, made a scramble from the eggs of birds indigenous to the winter planet, the texture similar to Earth eggs, but the color a pleasant lilac. Chakotay met Seska that night, and memorized her body like he had an exam on it the next day. He had sealed the doors of the Val Jean, so they had the entire ship to themselves. Of course, Chakotay and Seska woke up to the sound of B’elanna banging on the hull in fury, having slept outside in a climate most unsuitable for the hotblooded Klingon. Seska had smirked at B’elanna, who then had an obvious crush on her commanding officer. Seska had a way of marking her territory.  
Chakotay frowned as Seska’s malicious grin seized his memory. Seven was like Seska- her outside did not match her inside. Seska was Bajoran, but secretly Cardassian. She had betrayed him, pretended to be something she wasn’t. Seven was Borg, but secretly more human that most people he knew. Nobody suspected Seven was capable of such affection. The Captain always saw past Seven’s implants and demanding tone. Chakotay could too.  
  
“Commander?”

///

Seven watched as the Commander blinked, clearly distracted.  
  
“Are you all right, Commander?”  
  
“Lace,” he said, pausing to take a sip from his glass. “Lace.”  
  
She nodded. “Thank you, Commander. I would also like your guidance on-”  
  
“How about this- I’ll send a garment design to your console, on a secure channel.”  
  
“Acceptable. Thank you, Chakotay.” Seven observed him stiffen slightly. “Are you all right?”  
  
“You didn’t refer to me by my rank.”  
  
“My apologies, Commander.” Seven turned to leave. It was unlike her to make such a mistake. Perhaps the Captain’s ministrations were dulling her Borg perfection, the professionalism that guarded her.  
  
“No,” replied Chakotay. “I don’t mind. I consider you a valued friend too, Seven. As Kathryn would probably tell us, we’re family. Off duty, you can call me Chakotay.”  
  
Seven processed this information.  
  
“Thank you, Chakotay.” She smiled.

Seven now sprawled across Kathryn’s bed in Clothing Item Seven Alpha-4-3, reading Crewman Tal Celes’ study concerning the enhancement of the long range sensor array through exposure to tetryon particles. Seven annotated the report furiously, circling both grammatical and factual discrepancies. How could Tal be so brashly incompetent? Kathryn had taken a liking to Crewman Tal after a shuttle mission, and since ordered Seven to write weekly feedback to help the young woman grow. Kathryn also accompanied Ms. Tal to the holodeck every Thursday, playing doubles tennis with the Delaney sisters. Seven felt an uncharacteristic pang of jealousy- Kathryn had taken the Crewman under her wing just as she had with Seven nearly three years prior. Kathryn smiled at Ms. Tal so warmly, so charitably…  
She would invite Tal to dinner. She opened a new file on her PADD, adding Tal’s personnel stub to the list of invitees.  
  
 _Commander Chakotay_  
 _Lieutenant Commander Tuvok_  
 _Lieutenant B’elanna Torres_  
 _Ensign Tom Paris_  
 _Ensign Harry Kim_  
 _Neelix_  
 _Crewman Tal Celes_  
  


///  
  


“Marking your territory?” asked Kathryn quietly.  
  
Seven whipped around to stare at Captain Kathryn Janeway, who had sidled into the doorframe. She reached up to slowly unclip her pips, a matter of decency for her. Kathryn remembered Admiral Paris gathering her and the other freshly minted cadets of the Al-Batani in their ship’s lounge. He ordered synthehol for the group before beginning a story about Lady Luck, “the woman every Starfleet officer should lust for.” There were certain Starfleet superstitions that the Admiral strictly adhered to, and ordered his crews to follow suit. The Admiral demanded officers tuck an empty ration pack wrapper into their boots before dangerous missions. He informed Ensign Villabee that, as the lowest ranking member of the Engineering staff, she had to sing lullabies to the warp drive every night before her shift ended. The helmsmen had to knock three times on the side of their console before jumping to a speed above warp three. They couldn’t read Shakespeare on diplomacy missions- “‘et tu, Brute?’” the Admiral had exclaimed, wagging a finger at the younger officers, who exchanged glances of perturbance and mirth. Of course, the superstitions were whimsical until Paris began enforcing them. Villabee got assigned to ‘deflector dish monitoring’ for three hours while the deflector dish was inactive, after failing to sing “Hush Little Baby” to the warp drive. There was another superstition Admiral Paris had a tougher time enforcing, but one he took quite seriously- it was bad luck to become intimate while wearing rank insignia.  
  
Kathryn bent and placed her pips on the side table, where they clattered quietly, muffled by the warm skin of her hand.  
  
“How did you-I didn’t h-Kathryn.”  
  
Kathryn chuckled, hearing the longing for answers in Seven’s voice. The former drone couldn’t let anything unusual go unexplained. She sat on the bed, reaching out for Seven as she spoke.  
  
“Can’t a girl disable her own door-chime anymore?”  
  
Seven took her hand, gazing up at her partner.  
  
“My inattention spoiled the surprise I prepared for you,” said Seven in a low voice.  
  
“No, Seven…” whispered Kathryn, running a hand reverently down Seven’s ribs. “This is marvelous. You’re stunning.”  
  
“Clothing Item Seven Alpha-4-3,” said Seven, lowering her voice to match Kathryn’s.  
  
Kathryn took in the sight of Clothing Item Seven…. whatever. The quickening of her own breath drew her mind from thoughts of numbers and duty and memory, focusing on the present. Her eyes moved from one aspect of the garment to the next: the light pink lace draped across Seven’s chest and thighs...the breasts scooped up and pressed together by fabric...the dainty flowers embroidered across the panties...the exposed stomach, heaving slightly with arousal…  
  
Not one of Admiral Paris’ superstitions could have prepared Kathryn Janeway for the overwhelming loss of control she experienced as, ravenous, she fell atop Seven.

///

“Computer, play new messages.”  
  
“Three new messages- Captain Kathryn Janeway, Ensign Tom Paris, Lieutenant B’elanna Torres.”  
  
Uh-oh. What could the Captain be messaging him about? This couldn’t be good. Harry Kim decided to delay finding out.  
  
“Play the message from Tom.”  
  
“Harry! There’s a flock of sheep and a very pretty shepherd that need our help at 1700 hours! I’m running Fair Haven in Holodeck Two today. arey was running some Orion Syndicate program with the Engineering boys in Holodeck One. Oh yeah, and…don’t take this the wrong way, Harry, but... you don’t need to wear underwear today. Trust me. It’s hot in Fair Haven, and too many layers might be… uncomfortable.”  
  
What? That was odd. Harry shook his head, perturbed. “Play the message from B’elanna.”  
  
B’elanna spoke in a hurried, hushed tone. “Harry, you’ll want to wear underwear.” The comm channel closed as briskly as it opened.  
  
Harry laughed quietly as he took off his uniform shirt and undershirt. He was hardly surprised at Tom’s latest attempts to make a fool out of him. Harry Kim knew his worth- he was no fool. Harry examined himself in the mirror, admiring the newly developed pectoral muscles, a result of his recent foray into a Klingon Civil War holodeck program with Lieutenant Ayala. Of course, Harry couldn’t tell Tom he went to the holodeck with Ayala- that would be akin to cheating on the Ensign! Harry secretly thought Tom would take the news of Harry going to the holodeck with other guys harder than if B’elanna was cheating on him.  
  
Harry sighed. He had stalled long enough. “Computer, play the message from the Captain.”  
  
“Good evening,” began the Captain, sounding cordial. Where was this going? “If you’re receiving this message, I’d like your presence in my quarters tomorrow evening for supper, at 2000 hours. Casual attire. If you’re scheduled to be on duty, you’re excused. I hope to see you all then.” The channel closed. That was… that was odd. Harry had been to parties with the Captain, usually hosted by Neelix (or Kes, in Voyager’s earlier years). The only people who frequented the Captain’s quarters were her best friend, Chakotay, and her protegee, Seven of Nine. Captain Janeway was no Captain Ransom- she liked a little decorum aboard her ship. She didn’t release people from their duty shifts for nothing. Maybe…. could the Captain be retiring, or taking a temporary leave of absence? The Captain was notorious for burning the candle at both ends. But no- the Doctor would be instrumental in declaring any sort of personal leave, and he was still visiting Doctor Zimmerman in the Alpha Quadrant. Was it some sort of anniversary? And who else was going? Harry dressed for Fair Haven, churning with questions.

///

Tom Paris slapped the holographic sheep’s hindquarters, causing it to ‘baa’ in alarm as it toddled off on spindly legs.  
  
“Tom,” began Harry, leaning on his thick wooden staff. “Err- how are...your dates with B’elanna?”  
  
Tom turned to the younger man, vaguely dumbfounded. “Harry, you know I come to the Holodeck so I don’t have to think about my dates with B’elanna?”  
  
Both men laughed lightly. Tom’s dates with B’elanna were infamously volatile. Tom loved and respected B’elanna, he really did, although you wouldn’t know it from seeing them on their weekly dates. Some were grand slams, whereas others- like the literal Grand Slam baseball game on the holodeck- were less successful. Tom recalled Mickey Mantle going home with a broken arm that day, and B’elanna with mustard down her front. Tom never had much reverence for authority. At first, he had been worried that B’elanna would slowly become just another obligation he had to fulfill, but somehow he never got tired of her. She excited him, stimulated his mind even more than his body. Sometimes B’elanna would just go off on some warp plasma manifold tangent and Tom would just lose himself gazing at her. She loved her craft, loved making things work and figuring out ways to be better. She approached their relationship with the same engineer’s touch. He loved her so damn much.  
  
“Yeah. I-err-are you going out tomorrow?”  
  
“We were gonna,” started Tom, squinting into the sun, “but we cancelled it.”  
  
“Oh. Um.”  
  
Tom wasn’t about to tell Harry why. He and B’elanna had been invited for dinner in the Captain’s quarters, something they’d done a few times in the past. As far as he knew, Harry had never been invited. He wanted to spare his friend’s feelings. Harry wasn’t exactly one of the Captain’s favorites. He hadn’t gotten a promotion nor been on personal excursions with the Captain.  
  
“How come?” asked Harry eventually.  
  
“She wants to get a head start on the Sick Bay upgrades,” said Tom, remembering how delicious it felt to lie.  
  
“Oh!” Harry sounded excited. Tom didn’t want to think about why. Right now, his attention was focused the yelps Miss McGarry was producing on the other side of the hill as she tried to fend the stray dog away from her sheep. He’d save Harry’s strange enthusiasm for another day.

///

“And a cup of gritza juice for you, Lieutenant Ayala!” Neelix flashed a smile at the passing crewman as he served Alpha shift their breakfast. Neelix patted his sideburns, still slightly damp from his shower.   
  
While most of the crew used sonic showers, Neelix cashed in his stored replicator rations once a month to indulge in a real shower. Neelix had never been submerged in water before coming aboard Voyager, and the luxury of feeling liquid slide down his cheeks, relishing his soaked hair flat and warm against his scalp, wincing as his sensitive skin stung from the hot liquid… it was an alien delicacy, that much was certain.  
  
As most of the crewmen filed out of the mess hall to report to duty, Neelix glanced at his schedule for the day.  
 _0700 hours: Serve Alpha shift breakfast._  
  
“Check!” said Neelix, smiling uncannily. Why not smile, in a place where he could be submerged in water at will? Neelix needed a reason to be upset, unlike the temperamental humans who seemed to prefer scowls to smiles, and especially unlike B’elanna, who reminded him of a walking Talax-worm.  
  
 _0730 hours: Astronomy lessons with Naomi._  
 _0830 hours: Cooking lessons with Rebi and Azan.  
  
_ Neelix skimmed through the schedule, humming an old Talax merchant’s song. He liked full days. He worked longer hours than most of the Starfleet personnel, but he had to admit, his work was far less arduous- although more important, he thought! One of Mr. Tuvok’s great failings was not understanding the importance of morale in crew efficiency!  
  
 _1000 hours: Serve Beta shift breakfast._  
 _1100 hours: Senior Staff meeting._  
 _1230 hours: Meet with Lieutenant Torres._  
 _1300 hours: Serve Alpha shift lunch._  
 _1330 hours: Holonovel writing with Naomi and Mezoti._  
 _1500 hours: Serve Beta shift lunch, Gamma shift breakfast._  
 _1530 hours: Meet with Ensign Cray._  
 _1700 hours: Meet with Seven of Nine.  
  
_ Neelix smiled. He enjoyed his meetings with Seven, to discuss the progress of the recently liberated drone children.  
  
 _1800 hours: Serve Alpha shift dinner, Gamma shift lunch._  
 _1830 hours: Swimming lessons with the Borg children._  
 _1930 hours: Serve Beta shift dinner.  
_  
Most of the Beta shift preferred to have dinner in the comfort of their own quarters. They only ate his cooking because they ran out of rations. Neelix didn’t mind. Whatever the reason a crewman chose to spend their dinners in his little domain, Neelix was happy to present them with a warm meal and delightful banter.  
  
 _2000: Dinner with the Captain.  
_  
Neelix smiled again- this was exciting! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had dinner with the Captain! She had welcomed him aboard Voyager with open arms, a debt he could never- well. He knew the Captain wouldn’t like him thinking of his time on Voyager as any type of debt. Humans disliked idea of currency, and disliked monetized figures of speech ever more so. Humans didn’t understand Talaxian morals. That was okay. The Federation was out here for a reason- Neelix knew, underneath all their moral posturing, he was the reason. They were out here to meet him, and he loved them for it.  
Neelix looked forward to dinner with the Captain.

///

Tal Celes involuntarily gasped when the Captain lay a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Kathryn!” She stood, brushing wisps of mousy brown hair out of her face. She felt the color rising in her own cheeks as the thick collar of her uniform pressed uncomfortably against her neck.  
  
“At ease.” Kathryn settled down into the seat next to Tal, drawing a few stares. The Captain rarely frequented the mess hall, and even less frequently sat with junior officers in the way she now sat with Tal.  
  
“Wel-welcome to Beta shift lunch, Kath-Capt-”  
  
“I didn’t come here to confuse you, Celes. I’m still the Captain here.”  
  
Neelix bustled over, but Janeway lackadaisically waved him away. Tal admired how much the Captain could convey with a simple gesture.  
  
“Is everything alright, Captain?”  
  
“Oh, quite so. I trust you’ve been getting Seven’s reports?”  
  
“Err.. yes.”  
  
“Are they useful?”  
  
“I guess.”  
  
“You guess?”  
  
Tal sighed. “Technologically speaking, I feel like I can handle the charting system a lot better. Seven’s very clear in what she expects. It’s just… Seven. You know.”  
  
The Captain smiled easily. “She’s a demanding woman.”  
  
That was odd to Tal- for the Captain to describe Seven as a woman. I mean, Tal supposed she was, biologically, and an attractive one at that, but the way Seven walked and talked was as androgynous and bland as the next drone. Tal found women attractive, but she had always been attracted to who a person was, not what they looked like. She hated it when she heard Carey and his boys in engineering talking about Seven, daring one another to ask her out. She heard equal from Hina’s friends, chattering and probing Hina about what the Commander was like in bed. Tal thought that stuff was pretty ridiculous.  
  
Janeway cleared her throat. “You didn’t reply to my communique.”  
  
“Oh. The dinner.”  
  
Janeway raised an eyebrow, and Tal started to laugh.  
  
“I’m sorry, I just- playing tennis together is one thing, Captain. Talking shop. You giving me advice.” Tal lowered her voice. “But… don’t you think it’s inappropriate?”  
  
“Why would it be inappropriate?” asked the Captain, lowering her voice in turn.  
  
“Because...well..” Tal fumbled for the right words. “Isn’t there some sort of Starfleet regulation against it?”  
  
“Against having dinner with my friends?” asked Janeway smoothly, catching on.  
  
Tal continued, voice almost a whisper, her words rehearsed. “Because I think you’re beautiful, Captain, I really do, and that means who you are as a person, not just how you look. You’ve made me feel like I belong on Voyager, and I can’t thank you enough, but I’m worried how being together might affect-” Tal stopped abruptly.  
  
“Here it comes,” muttered the Captain, leaning back in amusement.  
  
“Did you say…. ‘friends?’ Plural?” Asked Tal, voice quavering.  
  
“I’m having dinner with my friends,” repeated Janeway.  
  
“As in… not just me.”  
  
“Not just you,” said Kathryn. Tal was scarlet.  
  
“Oh prophets.... this is bad on so many levels.”

Neelix banged a spoon against a pot, grinning.  
  
“Beta shift, your break is over! Back to work! Back to work! Chop-chop!”  
  
The Captain rose to her feet, smirking, speaking before Tal had a chance to make her stammered apology. “I’m flattered Celes, really. See you tonight.”

The Captain waltzed out of the mess hall, a girlish smile adorning her face.

///

“Come in!”  
  
Tuvok entered the Captain’s quarters, noting the plume of steam masking what he quickly determined to be Seven of Nine. Seven coughed, fanning the cloud out of her face.  
  
“Who is it?” called the Captain from the next room, Seven ignoring her as she bent feverishly over the pot. “Seven?” repeated Janeway, peering out of the doorway, fumbling wit her hair.  
  
“Captain,” began Tuvok, setting down his box and clasping his hands behind his back, “I do not believe appropriate safety regulations are being met in your preparatory process.”  
  
“Captain’s privilege, Mr. Tuvok,” she said, striding across the room to stand before him, smiling. Captain Janeway wore a light blue satin dress with a cowl neckline, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and secured with a ribbon.  
  
“Of course, Captain,” said Tuvok, nodding in respect. “Your attire is aesthetically pleasing.”  
  
“Was that a compliment, Mr. Tuvok?” It was intended as such. Tuvok internally smiled as rosy delight lit the younger woman’s face.  
  
“Merely an observation, Captain.”  
  
Seven emitted a noise akin to an aborted yelp, struggling to regain compose. The Captain glanced over at her before deciding to offer aide. She beckoned for Tuvok to follow her.  
  
“You’re early, Tuvok. Didn’t anyone ever tell you about arriving fashionably late?”  
  
Tuvok handed the Captain his parcel. “A gift.”  
  
Seven, who was already irritated, shot Tuvok a dangerous look. “Gifts were not requested by the organizer of this function.” Tuvok admired Seven’s shrewd and efficient manner of communication, although he knew many crew members still found it jarring. Tuvok preferred to leave the tutelage in human behavior to the Captain, Seven’s mentor and romantic partner. What Mezoti had made clear to the security chief in her admission had only confirmed certain suspicions lingering in his mind about the two women. As security chief, he closely observed the mannerisms of his crewmates, in order to properly assess when someone acted out of the ordinary.  
  
“I believe casual attire was.”  
  
Janeway laughed, lazily eyeballing Seven’s frame in her biosuit uniform. “He’s got you there! I’ll take over. You go change. I want you in the maroon-” she lowered her voice, assuming some semblance of propriety- “You’d look lovely in the maroon dress, Seven.”  
  
Seven nodded curtly, a smile curling at her lips before stalking into the next room with ease. Tuvok lifted a brow. The Captain was apparently not particularly subtle in concealing her relationship with the astrometrics officer. She was, as far as Tuvok knew, still unaware that he possessed knowledge of their affair.  
  
Captain Janeway set Tuvok’s gift on the counter. “Should I open it now?”  
  
“After dinner, perhaps.”  
  
The Captain nodded, and assumed a rhythmic stirring of the pot, humming along to a song unique to her head, Tuvok was sure.  
  
“Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Tuvok!”  
  
“I’m sure the others will be arriving in a few minutes,” he replied.  
  
“Care to place wagers on who will be last?”  
  
Tuvok slid onto a stool by the kitchen table. “I have not read the contents of your guest list.”  
  
“The senior staff, minus the Doctor, plus Tal Celes.” Tuvok nodded thoughtfully. Interesting. Tal Celes and the Captain were becoming mentor and mentee, he knew. Perhaps the young Bajoran was replacing Seven in that regard, now that Seven had rather successfully integrated into the crew and into the Captain’s life.  
  
“Crewman Tal has a history of tardiness; however, Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres’ incessant bickering over superficial issues is sure to delay them significantly.”  
  
The Captain laughed, raising the ladle to her mouth and sipping the hot stew. “You’re on. My bet’s on Mr. Neelix. He always underestimates the amount of crewmen that will waylay him in the hall.”  
  
“I have learned,” began Tuvok, “it is unwise to bet on Mr. Neelix. He is an unpredictable and highly illogical individual.”

“CAPTAIN!” Neelix threw up his arms in greeting in the doorway. Janeway groaned jokingly. “Right on time, Mr. Neelix!”  
  
Neelix strode in happily, iridescent paisley fabric clashing horribly with Tuvok’s slate-gray tunic. He wafted the steam from off the stove-top. “Captain! I knew you had impeccable culinary taste, but I always thought you were a replicator girl!” Chuckling, the Captain pulled Neelix in and placed a delighted kiss on his cheek. As the two began jabbering excitedly about Naomi Wildman’s latest foray into theatrical performance, Tuvok poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher on a nearby side table, assuming his typical social gathering stance- back to the wall, a wary gaze.  
Ensign Harry Kim and Crewman Tal Celes arrived within a few moments of one another, both younger officers wanting to please their Captain with their timeliness. Ensign Kim looked well-kempt in a button down, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Tuvok remembered a time when he had to reprimand the inexperienced officer on his attire at official functions. Kim had matured, not that the Captain seemed to take much note. Tal instinctively hung around the wall, shy around the senior staff, but the Captain passed her ladle to Neelix and led the young Bajoran to the sofa, causing Tal to flush at the attention.  
Tuvok liked parties. He liked watching the range of emotions flicker across the faces of his friends, watch them share in the pleasures of food and conversation. Tuvok had no desire to abandon Vulcan protocol, but he recalled a time when he openly relished in the pleasures of togetherness, as a young and rebellious man. No matter. To dwell on the past was illogical. Tuvok was content. He liked parties.

///

“Celes,” began Janeway, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, “I want you here. You belong here. On Voyager, we have a bad habit of only socializing with those on our duty shifts and with similar responsibilities to us. It’s elitist and only serves to divide us.” Captain Janeway focused on keeping her voice firm, though somewhat apologetic. She could still sense the younger woman was uncomfortable with their conversation earlier that day. She hoped Tal understood that her welcome was intended to soothe more than anxiety about rank and status.  
  
“Thank you, Captain.” Janeway noted how Tal fidgeted with her hands, the forced comfort in her voice, the way her thighs pressed tightly against each other under her purple cotton dress. This dinner party would be tense enough with any drama. Chakotay entered the room, handsome in a gray tunic that brought out the salt-and-pepper in his hair.  
  
“Excuse me,” said Janeway, smiling cordially. Chakotay was easily the most calming presence she knew, and would no doubt be good for Tal, who nearly buzzed with anxiety. Kathryn stood on tiptoe to whisper into his ear. He nodded and walked to the couch to sit beside Tal, flashing an inviting smile.

///

“We’re quite literally ten minutes late!” B’elanna slammed a fist into a side table, the table’s legs groaning in protest.  
  
“I’m sorry, B’elanna, but I don’t show up to parties on time!” Tom slowly buttoned his shirt, running a hand through his slicked hair. B’elanna thought he looked rather sexy, not that she’d ever admit it to the lazy! Slow! Argumentative! Son-of-a!  
  
“It’s not an Academy banger, hotshot, it’s a nice dinner with our commanding officer!” B’elanna smoothed her pleated beige dress.  
  
“It’s not my way,” said Tom, a note of finality in his voice. “We can leave soon, or-”  
  
“Aggh!” B’elanna bent over a computer console, tapping at its mechanisms. “Computer, initiate site-to-site transport, clearance B’elanna Beta-Nine.”  
  
“Wha- B’elanna!”

Tom and B’elanna materialized a little too close to where Harry was standing with Tuvok, causing Harry to yelp and nearly fall over. Tom reached out and steadied his friend.  
  
“I believe I won our bet, Captain,” said Tuvok, stepping nimbly away from the couple. “Tom and B’elanna were the last to arrive.”  
  
“Incorrect,” said Seven, stepping out from the Captain’s bedroom. B’elanna nearly gasped aloud, suddenly feeling inadequate! Seven wore a maroon off-the-shoulder dress in a that hugged her thin waist tightly and featured a slit running up the leg. The replicated hem swayed delicately above her anklebones. Her wavy hair danced on her collarbones, her lips tinted a soft red.  
B’elanna could feel Tom stiffen beside her.  
  
“God damn,” he breathed, fixated. B’elanna pinched him.  
  
“She’s a bit overdressed,” grumbled B’elanna, adopting a faux temperament. Seven looked spectacular, every inch of her screaming ‘sex.’ Ugh. B’elanna dismissed the all-too-Klingon thought from her mind.  
  
“You look marvelous, Seven!” remarked Neelix, speaking on what B’elanna was sure was everyone’s behalf. However, Neelix’s tone undercut the building sexual tension in the room. “Captain Janeway, is supper ready?”  
  
“Yes,” murmured the Captain. B’elanna glanced at Janeway- there was a strange glint in her eyes, appreciation, warmth. B’elanna couldn’t blame her. When Seven had arrived aboard Voyager, she was more machine than man. B’elanna recalled the Captain confiding in her, worrying that Seven would always be feared because of how she looked, then later, how she acted. Janeway alleviated that fear by becoming Seven’s mentor, becoming personally responsible for who Seven became. Seven was hardly the frigid automaton she once was, particularly in the last few months. B’elanna suspected, based on the revering way Seven looked at the Captain, that Seven saw Janeway as more of a mother than Erin Hansen ever was.  
  
“All right, then!” Neelix offered Seven his arm, and cheerily escorted her to the table, pulling out a chair for her. Seven hesitated before sitting, somewhat uncomfortably, placing a hand on the chair next to her.  
  
“Captain Janeway shall sit here,” commanded Seven, before forcing a tense smile.  
  
“Sit wherever you’d like,” said the Captain, smoothly walking to the table and whispering something in Seven’s ear before sitting down.

///

“Trust your human instincts,” whispered Kathryn. “You are here. Now.” Seven recognized that Kathryn was echoing Seven’s own attempt to confess her love. Seven smiled up at Kathryn as she took her seat beside Seven.  
  
Kathryn smiled at her, and put her hand on Seven’s thigh. Seven noted that the circular table’s dimensions did not lend themselves to a gathering of this size, resulting in a certain closeness between the nine attendees. Kathryn sat on her left, Mr. Neelix on her right. On Kathryn’s other side sat Tal Celes, ushered there by Chakotay, who sat between Celes and B’elanna. Tom sat between B’elanna and Harry, Tuvok between Harry and Neelix. Seven frowned. Celes? B’elanna? They were Crewman Tal. Lieutenant Torres. It was unlike her to even think of her fellow officers so casually, in the manner in which she distinguished Kathryn from Captain. But what would Kathryn say? ‘They’re your family, Seven.’ And as Seven looked around the table- Neelix to Tuvok to Harry to Tom to B’elanna to Chakotay to Celes to Kathryn- Seven realized that her little internal-Kathryn was right.  
  
“Dig in,” announced Kathryn, squeezing Seven’s thigh. Between the urging of Neelix and Kathryn, Seven was served a bit of everything. Neelix annotated each dish, offering so-called “fun facts,” each of which was rebutted with a calmly scathing remark from Tuvok. Tom and B’elanna were engaged in banter too, as were Kathryn and Chakotay. Seven made uncomfortable eye contact with Harry, who was staring at her with a certain degree of lust, and a few seconds later with Celes, whose absentminded eyes were directed at her chest and growing so large Seven thought another ridge might pop out on her nose. Seven, following Celes’ gaze, looked down at her own chest than back at Celes, then at Harry. All three exchanged glances before deciding to furtively dig into their meals.

///

“...and not to mention, you lied to me!”  
  
“I did not!” responded Tom, stabbing a piece of sweet potato, grinning.  
  
“Yes, you did!” said Harry, nearly knocking over Tuvok’s drink as he gesticulated. “You told me B’elanna cancelled your date to get a head start on Sick Bay upgrades. You cancelled it to come to this!”  
  
“Well, frankly, Harry, I wasn’t sure if you’d been invited! I didn’t want to be insensitive!”  
  
“Mr. Paris,” began Tuvok, “are you genuinely making a comment on avoiding insensitive statements and behavioral patterns?”  
  
Chakotay, tuning into the conversation, snorted into his wine. “He’s got you there, Tom!”  
  
“Imagine living with him,” said B’elanna, stabbing a tempting piece of seasoned tofu off Tom’s plate.  
  
“And if I recall correctly,” said Tom, leaning into Harry, “you didn’t exactly bring up the dinner either. You didn’t ask ‘hey Tom, are you going to the Captain’s dinner?’ No, you asked me if I was going out with B’elanna tonight! And then you sounded excited when I lied- you were excited she invited you and not me!”  
  
“Well, I wasn’t sure if you’d found your way into the Captain’s good gra-” defended Harry.  
  
“Oh, come on, Harry! The Captain has B’elanna and me over all the time!”  
  
“Well-” began Kathryn, rubbing her temple. This crew would be the death of her. She lightly reached over to tap Chakotay on the knee three times in quick succession- a little SOS they’d developed during staff meetings and the Doctor’s holophotography presentations.  
  
“Let’s change the subject,” said Chakotay firmly. “Celes was telling me about a project that she and Seven-”  
  
“Who the hell is Celes?” interrupted Tom, a goofy smile on his face.  
  
“Ensign Tal, you dumbass!” said B’elanna, pinching him. “Apologize!”  
  
“It’s really fine-” started Celes.  
  
“I believe you are referring to Cremwan Tal,” said Tuvok cooly.  
B’elanna’s head whipped around to look at Tuvok. “Really, Tuvok?”  
  
“Lieutenant Commander Tuvok,” mumbled Harry to B’elanna, knowingly exacerbating her. B’elanna spun around to stare impetulantly at Chakotay, with the air of a second-grader about to tattle on her peers.  
  
“Chakotay, I’ve just about had it-”  
  
“Commander Chakotay,” said Tom and Harry in sync, grinning devilishly at one another.  
  
“Imbeciles!” B’elanna threw her napkin on the table.  
  
“B’elanna,” began Neelix soothingly.  
  
“Lieutenant Torres,” said Harry, earning a scathing glare from B’elanna. Tom, who was wising up, also made an attempt to cool her down.  
  
“B’elanna, Celes, I’m sorry. I just didn’t know-”  
  
“It’s fine, really!” urged Celes.  
  
“It is a wonder any of you made it through the Academy,” said Tuvok. Harry, Tom, and Chakotay exchanged glances, all covering their mirth.  
  
“Oh, SHUT UP!” roared B’elanna, causing all three men to burst out laughing.  
  
“Why are you laughing?” asked Celes, leaning over to speak softly to Chakotay.  
  
“Because B’elanna didn’t,” whispered Chakotay back.  
  
“She didn’t what? She didn’t- oh.”  
  
“Gentlemen, please!” said Neelix, smiling. “It’s not polite to have a joke at B’elanna’s expense!”

As Neelix unsuccessfully attempted to de-escalate the conflict, Seven and Janeway continued their covert conversation.  
  
“You want to tell them now?” whispered Seven.  
  
“Parties are like stories, Seven. There’s rising action, a climax, and a resolution.”  
  
“Sounds like sex,” whispered Seven, prompting Kathryn to stroke Seven’s thigh slowly, smiling.  
  
“This could be the party’s climax if we don’t regain control.”  
  
“You treat this social function like a mission, Kathryn.”  
  
“Oh, it is. Of all the dangerous and unpredictable phenomenon we’ve encountered, I’ve learned that judgment from those I respect is the one threat for which my defensive capabilities are no match.”  
  
“You told me they would not judge us. That they are family.”  
  
“They’re family, all right. I met this comedian from Tau Sigma IV, and he refused to do a comedy set in front of his family. He said they were the toughest audience he’d ever had. Nothing he said got even a smile out of them.”  
  
“Perhaps he wasn’t very funny,” said Seven cooly.  
  
“You’re funny yourself, you know that?”  
  
“You are mistaken.”  
  
“But...Seven. Now?”  
  
Seven hesitated. There was no point in postponing the inevitable. “Fine.”

///

“If I might have your attention,” began Janeway, swallowing. She was excited to finally tell her friends- yes, her family- why she fidgeted during staff meetings, why she smiled absentmindedly on the bridge, why she hosted this damn dinner party.  
  
“You might be wondering what you’re all doing here. I’ve never hosted this group of people before, nor in this fashion.” She took Seven’s hand under the table, squeezing it.  
  
“This isn’t just my attempt to boost the morale of my senior staff. There’s something of a...personal nature... that we deemed our friends should know about.”  
  
Seven was the one that guided her and Kathryn’s interlocked fingers from under the table to rest between their plates.  
  
“Kathryn and I are romantically involved,” stated Seven, staring intently at Celes for a moment, before turning her eyes to Harry. Marking her territory indeed, Kathryn thought, and allowing herself to be marked in turn. Kathryn gauged Chakotay’s reaction first, for reassurance. He smiled encouragingly, before reaching up to touch B’elanna’s shoulder.  
  
The engineer, who, just seconds before, was close to throwing a steamed tomato at Tuvok’s head, was now speechless, her hand slowly slipping out of Tom’s. Tom and Harry exchanged glances, Harry adopting a forced calm, Tom not even bothering to disguise his apparent shock. His fork was suspended in midair, quivering ten centimeters from his mouth. Tuvok, of course, had no reaction, almost farcical in contrast with Neelix, whose smile was bigger and brighter than the Betazed sun. Tal Celes was crimson again. Unsurprisingly, Neelix was the first to speak.  
  
“Congratulations, ladies! I have to say, the two of you make a handsome couple!”  
  
“Thank you Neelix,” said Janeway, smiling comfortably.  
  
“How long have you been together?” he asked.  
  
“Nearly four months,” she replied. An immensely loud silence followed her words. Celes opened her mouth as if to speak before closing it again. Harry leaned back in his chair, B’elanna unconsciously wiping her mouth with her napkin, eyes fixed on Seven. Chakotay cleared his throat. Tom dropped his fork.  
  
After about fifteen seconds of agonizing silence, Seven leaned over to whisper into Kathryn’s ear. “Why are they silent?” Janeway shook her head.  
  
“Now’s not the best time for a lesson in emotional response,” she whispered in turn, nearly impalpable.  
  
“Why not?” asked Seven, evenly. “Think of Tuvok.”  
  
“What on earth do you-” Oh. She understood. Tuvok’s unfailing logic took the place of emotion. Feelings, when analyzed and dissected, could be understood. Left unchecked, they could fester into worry, judgment, or even resentment. The science of feeling. Kathryn cleared her throat.  
  
“Mr. Kim, would you mind explaining to Seven why everyone is silent?”  
  
“Well...permission to speak freely?” Harry looked like a deer in headlights.  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
“Well…” Harry fumbled for words. “I don’t know, we’re all just… part of it is that we feel negligent. Like we’ve been bad friends for not noticing.” Janeway nodded.  
  
“Good. Continue his line of thought, Mr. Paris.”  
  
“Do-do I have to? ”  
  
“My order stands.”  
  
“We-well, I shouldn’t speak for everyone, but I never thought of the Captain in, you know, that way. It’s like finding out your grandpa hired an Orion slave gi-” Janeway lifted an eyebrow, and Tom quickly switched gears. “What I mean to say is that Captain Janeway hasn’t had a romantic relationship for the past six years. Unless you count Kashyk, which I certainly don’t-”  
  
“Help him out, Celes,” interrupted Janeway, B’elanna shooting Tom a violent glare.  
  
“Well, Seven, the same goes for you. I mean, I didn’t even know the Borg could have… you know…”  
  
“Sex?” supplied Seven.  
  
“I mean, yeah, that too. Yeah, sexual relations.” Celes was scarlet, clearly humiliated at the prospect of discussing sex in front of the senior officers, with whom she was already desperately uncomfortable. Kathryn thought Celes had picked a rather poor line of thought in this matter. Why not just say she never saw Seven as emotional? That would have been sufficient! The poor woman had little common sense, making her fit for the Captain’s reforming. Luckily, Celes saved herself.  
  
“But I meant...well, obviously you have emotions, but...emotional depth, I guess. Let alone a relationship,” said Celes. “Seven, it seems like all you care about is efficiency. And you think everything is irrelevant.”  
  
“I do not,” said Seven, slipping into the easily role of chastising poor Crewman Tal. “You are using hyperbole, rather ineffectively.”  
  
“I am?” asked Celes. B’elanna started laughing, though clearly not at Celes’ grammatical haplessness.  
  
“B’elanna? Thoughts?” asked Janeway.  
  
“I suppose I’m- Seven!” a huge smile broke out on her face. “Seven, I never thought- this is incredible! It’s- what? What? How? You’re you! And you- you’re you! Neither of you- what!”  
  
“Captain Janeway,” began Tuvok, “am I to understand that none of the senior staff were previously aware of your relationship with Seven of Nine?”  
  
“This feels like an interrogation,” said Kathryn, smiling, “but no. Only Chakotay knew.”  
  
“Oh my god!” said Tom. “The hicki-”  
  
“There may have been some clues,” said Kathryn hurriedly, eager to cut off the helmsman’s remark. B’elanna got the message, turning to her boyfriend with wide eyes.  
  
“So I take it this is still a secret?” asked Neelix, smiling.  
  
“Well, Neelix. We wanted the seven of you to know because you’re our closest friends.”  
  
Several eyes went to Tal Celes, who looking down as she swelled with pride.  
  
“We would appreciate it,” began Seven, “if you were prudent. We don’t want to be the subject of the ship’s gossip circuit.”  
  
“Uh-oh,” said Tom, causing Kathryn to tense. “What about the Doctor?” Kathryn sighed in relief.  
  
“Tom, when you said ‘uh-oh,’ I was worried you had already told half the ship.”  
  
“But I can tell Hina?” confirmed Chakotay.  
  
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to double dates with my best friend and our women,” said Kathryn, reaching across the table to touch Chakotay’s hand.  
  
“Hey!” said Tom, clearly affronted. “On this ship, all double dates are with me and B’elanna.”  
  
“But- Captain! What is happening!” B’elanna was still speaking, despite being speechless.  
  
“Specify,” said Seven, causing Tom to snort.  
  
“You’re- you’re her mentor! You’re like her mother, aren’t you?” B’elanna looked genuinely perturbed.  
  
“No,” said Seven and Kathryn together. Seven took the question.  
  
“Kathryn has been my guide in understanding humanity. She now guides me in understanding love, in what it means to love and be loved. Like you implied, Lieutenant Torres, I once did not believe that I, Seven of Nine, could ever know these things. Only a being as eternally patient and brave as Kathryn would rescue a single drone from the collective, let alone choose a life at her side. If Kathryn is anything, she is an explorer. She explores the bounds of space and knowledge, unlocking parts of the galaxy to which humanity was previously ignorant. Similarly, she unlocks portions of my being I thought would remain permanently shut. She is not a mother figure in my life. She is my savior. I hope this answer was sufficient.”  
  
Everyone fell silent again. Kathryn felt what she was sure Seven couldn’t- that this was not a silence of uncertainty, but one of awe. Her own eyes had grown wet. That simply couldn’t do. She was the Captain, a symbol of strength. She stroked the back of Seven’s neck before placing a kiss firmly on her cheek, a tear falling from Kathryn’s eye to Seven’s shoulder. Seven turned, kissing Kathryn gently on the lips.

///

Seven placed the final dishes in the replicator for recycling, while Kathryn swayed her hips to the music she had put on after the departure of her dinner guests. Kathryn noticed Tuvok’s parcel out of the corner of her eye.  
  
“Tuvok left me something.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I don’t know. A gift. A surprise.”  
  
Seven crossed the room to sit on the couch beside Kathryn as she opened the gift.  
  
“I didn’t notice him giving a gift. But then again, Lieutenant Torres’ tears were rather distracting.”  
  
“And out of character, wouldn’t you say?” giggled Kathryn. “I never saw her as the sentimental type, but your words moved her to tears!”  
  
“I imagine Ensign- I imagine Tom will have something to live up to now,” said Seven. “I believe I have set the standard rather high.”  
  
“Believe me, you have,” murmured Kathryn, voice quavering. “I once would have considered your monologue tremendously out of character, before I knew the depth of your capacity to love.” She kissed Seven heartily now, drawing Seven’s bottom lip into her mouth. Seven pulled away, whispering into Kathryn’s lips.  
  
“Shall we open the present, so that we might turn our mind to... other activities?”  
  
“Mmm.” Kathryn pecked Seven on the lips for good measure before tearing into Tuvok’s meticulous wrapping. She enjoying feeling the smooth strips of paper rip off the box. It reminded her of her father’s notorious birthday parties, and how he would always enlist little Katie and Phoebe in tearing into his gifts for him. The other Fleet Admirals and starship Captains were charmed, and told her father she was destined for Starfleet. Kathryn supposed her destiny was what had brought her to the Al-Batani, to Voyager, and now to Seven of Nine. She had spent so long suppressing her feelings about being trapped in the Delta Quadrant in order to maintain crew morale, to embody strength. Inside, she had been wilting. Now, Captain Janeway knew this was where she was supposed to be. She and Seven were meant to be together. Perhaps whichever Fates weaving her mortal lifeline knew that a miracle would have to happen to bring the two women together from two quadrants apart. And so they did the impossible. She was supposed to be here, because she was meant to be with Seven. It was an immutable fact.  
  
Kathryn shrugged off the romantic notion, focusing on the task at hand. The wrapping paper covered a small box, on which was written a simple note in lilting English- ‘You are as one.’ Seven lifted an eyebrow. Kathryn opened the box. Inside were two rings, fashioned out of an intricately woven fabric. Kathryn gasped.  
  
“They’re beautiful!” She whispered.  
  
“He knew,” said Seven, picking up one of the rings. “Tuvok knew what we were going to say.”  
  
“Olivhe rings,” whispered Kathryn.  
  
“Explain,” replied Seven, cocking a brow.  
  
“They’re called Olivhe rings. They’re thumb-rings traditionally worn during wedding ceremonies between Vulcans and off-worlders.”  
  
  
“Does this…”  
  
“Don’t worry, they don’t carry any binding symbolism for two aliens. But they’re still a marvelous symbol of commitment and passion.”  
  
Taking Kathryn’s hand, Seven slid one of the rings on her thumb, stroking the back of her hand with her cybernetic implants. Kathryn did the same, kissing the back of Seven’s hand in turn. The two locked eyes. Kathryn fell in deep, slowly unzipping the back of Seven’s tight red dress.  
  
“Seven,” she whispered.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“You wouldn’t happened to have saved the specifications for Clothing Item Seven Alpha-whatever?”  
  
“Seven Alpha-4-3.”  
  
“That one.”  
  
Seven slowly smiled, stroking Kathryn’s cheek. “Wait in the bedroom, my love.”  
And as Kathryn stood, she knew that term of endearment- ‘my love’- was as sincere a vow as the most devoted religious declaration.  
  
  
Captain Kathryn Janeway sat on their bed and waited to make love, or, more accurately, pay bodily homage to the greatest love story she had ever known.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for your support! It truly means so much :) This may be the last installment, at least for a while. I sort of want to write some Unimatrix 0 angst, but no promises. Anyway, you all are amazing, and thank you for reading my stuff.


End file.
